


The World's Stupidest Genius

by Borntobemild



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Robin, Self-Harm, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim is stupid, but also smart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-25 19:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borntobemild/pseuds/Borntobemild
Summary: Tim was convinced his plan was perfect. After all, Jason and Bruce clearly loved each other. He would force them to talk to each other, even at the cost of his own life.AKA Five Times Tim purposefully injured himself to convice Jason to talk to Bruce and one time it was an accident.





	1. And So it Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So I put the self harm tag there because Tim does a lot of rationalization of putting himself in danger on purpose. I figured it was better safe than sorry.

1.  
Tim didn't really remember what happened last night. It was all blurry in his mind. And he wished he did, because maybe his memories would explain why he woke up with no idea where he was. More importantly, are those guns on the walls?

"Morning Replacement." A familiar (and slightly traumatic if he's being honest) voice spoke up. "Want to explain what you were thinking?"

Tim didn't answer (how could he? He didn't even know what had happened?), instead choosing to sit up and take in his surroundings. The guns were a dead give away. Not to mention the smell of cigarettes and the clear unease Tim felt at his surroundings. Yeah. He was screwed. His ribs twinged (probably bruised, if not broken) and his head throbbed (concussion, probably short term amnesia).

"Jason?" He had to ask, even though it seemed obvious. This had to be a dream. Jason wanted to kill him. Straight up murder. Not wrap his broken ribs and let him crash on his old couch that smells like cigarettes. "What happened?"

"That's what I want to know!" Jason snapped. "You show up in Crime Alley half concious and spout some bull about how I need to come home!"

There were two options here. Tim had been seriously injured and concussed and decided it would be a good idea to come to Jason in his hour of need, or was drunk and got into a bar fight that he lost. Both are equally likely at this point. Tim's leaning more towards the bar fight.

"Did I really?" Tim groaned. Why was the light so bright. His head throbbed almost in reply. Right. Probable concussion. "I'm sorry, I should have just gone home."

"Why didn't you?" Jason asked. "Alfred would have been happy to patch you up."

"What?" Tim frowned. "Why would Alfred be there?"

"Does Alfred not hang out at the Manor anymore?" Jason asked.

"He does but I don't." Tim sat up and tried to steady himself. He felt dizzy and he hated not knowing what had happened last night.

Jason had been talking, ranting actually, and Tim only caught the tail end of it. "-re like twelve!"

"I'm sixteen!" Tim argued.

"That doesn't explain why you aren't living at the Manor! You're still a kid!"

"I'm emancipated, so I'm legally an adult." Tim grinned. "Thanks for patching me up and, you know, not murdering me in my sleep. It means a lot."

Jason frowned. "Hold up you aren't going anywhere-"

Tim was already halfway to the window. Being around Jason was making Tim tense and he had to get out of there. For all he knew it was Jason that he got into a probable bat fight with. As he was about to grapple away and hand clamped around his upper arm and hauled him back into the room.

"First of all," Jason glared at him and Tim resisted the urge to flinch. It didn't help that there were guns everywhere and Jason could shoot Tim at any time. "If you're going anywhere it's going to be the Manor. The last thing we need is another dead Robin."

"I'm not Robin!" Tim argued.

"Red Robin. Whatever. Same difference." Jason shrugged. "Second. You aren't swinging anywhere. You have a concussion."

"Try and stop me!" Tim snapped.

"I already did." Jason plucked the grapple from Tim's hand. "Call a cab or something."

"I'm in my gear."

"Then take the bus."

"Jason." Tim groaned. "I'm fine. I can swing home just fine."

"You mean swing to the Manor." Jason reiterated.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Tim snatched his grapple back and started out the window again. "Since when did you care?"

"Since you showed up in my area of Gotham half dead." Jason deadpanned. "If you had died everyone would have blamed me. Now go to the Manor."

"You can't tell me what to do. You aren't my dad."

"I can call Dick."

"Dick can't control me. In fact, at this point if he told me to do something I'd probably do the exact opposite." There was a glint of something in Jason's eye. Curiosity maybe?

"I'll tell Bruce then."

"Yeah, right." Tim said dryly. "You haven't spoken to Bruce in forever, and I doubt you're going to hash out all if your issues over little old me."

"Only if you're dying." Jason replied, voice just as dry. Tim rolled his eyes, shooting his grapple.

"Bye Jason."

It wasn't until later that Tim realized exactly what Jason had said. Tim had seen the family without Jason, it wasn't the same. Even when Jason was murdering people it was clear how much Bruce loved and missed him. The family needed Jason. A lot more than they needed Tim. Jason would help Damian so much if they could get along, they could be so good for each other. Dick could finally stop feeling guilty over everything that happened before Jason died. Bruce could become more like his old self, something Tim never quite managed.

Jason was everything this family needed right now.

'Only if you're dying' Jason had said. It made sense. Sure he had been joking, but Tim had no doubt that if he was injured enough, Jason would call Bruce and things would be better.

Besides. He would be careful, it's not like he was actually trying to kill himself. This is what would be best for everyone. Tim wasn't going to actually die, and if he did, his life for Jason's would be worth it.

But it wouldn't come to that. Tim wouldn't let it. But if it did (even though it wouldn't), if Bruce could handle losing anyone it would be Tim. He had forced his way into the family anyways. The only reason he had become a part of the family was to save Batman, and now he had a chance. Someone just had to start a conversation, and now Tim knew how to make it happen.

Tim would plan, extensively. He wasn't going to needlessly throw himself into danger. It was for a good cause. Who cares if Tim still wasn't convinced Jason was going to kill him? Tim needs to do what's best for the family.

So Tim planned. Extensively.


	2. According to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim puts his plan into motion. It both does and doesn't work.

2\.   
It was two months later that Tim finally put his plan into action. He had to make sure Jason didn't connect their conversation to what Tim was doing. He had to put some time between them. Besides, Alfred just went on a much needed six month vacation to England. He was the only person that could throw a wrench into Tim's plans, because Jason could just dump Tim on Alfred. This way it had to be Bruce.

Tim had been so focused on this lately that other things had fallen to the back burner. He still did his WE work, still worked with the Titans, it was the other things that fell back. Sleep, eating. Self care. Tim had lost seven pounds that he desperately needed in just two months all because he was too focused. And it wasn't ending any time soon. Besides, maybe this would help his case.

The first one was meticulous. He had planned for the drug cartel to be right next to Crime Alley, Jason's territory.

He had taken out all but two guys. Perfect. Their guns were pointed at him. While facing one his back was to the other. They both fired and he twisted in the air. One missed. The other hit it's mark, just as Tim had planned. He had twisted perfectly so that it hit a specific seam in his armor, right under his arm.

He made quick work of the two remaining goons. It was too easy. So what if there was already a lot of blood slicking up the right side of his body? So what if he couldn't grapple away because his arm wouldn't work? So what if he was already getting dizzy?

It was all part of the plan.

Even though he knew it would hurt (the pain was nothing compared to how Bruce felt without Jason by his side), Tim grappled to the top of a building so that the police wouldn't find him. He collapsed. It was all part of the plan. Labored breathing. Pain. Dizziness. All according to the plan.

The only possible variable was Jason. What if he didn't patrol tonight? What if he wasn't in the area? Then Tim was dead. But it would be worth it for Jason to be home again.

Just as Tim had resigned himself to the fact that he was dead, he heard a thump on the building.

"Replacement?" A voice asked.

"Hey 'ood." He slurred. He tried to stand up but his legs crumpled. Blood loss. That's okay. Part of the plan.

***

Tim could feel someone glaring at him. He wasn't even fully awake and he could feel the heat of the glare. That meant he did something stupid.

No you didn't. His brain supplied. Everything went according to plan.

Right. The plan. If it had gone well Jason had called Bruce for help and they may fight for a little bit but at least now they're talking. In fact, they're probably at the manor now, which is a huge step forward for Jason. And Tim hadn't even died, so he could help mediate. Or maybe they're both angry at him and can bond over their mutual distaste for him. Tim couldn't blame them. He'd be disappointed in himself too.

There was one issue. This didn't feel like the manor. Tim's senses were slowly returning, and Tim smelled cigarettes. Alfred would never let cigarettes anywhere near the Manor. And while Jason sometimes smelled like them, it was never like this. So he was in Jason's apartment. Fine, just because they weren't at the manor didn't mean that his plan hadn't worked. In fact, Bruce at Jason's place was almost as good as having Jason at the manor. It meant Jason trusted Bruce enough to let him in his house.

When Tim opened his eyes the room had already been dimmed enough for him to be comfortable. Jason was sitting next to the bed glaring at him. Tim had both a blood bag and an IV hooked up to his arm. Tim felt more awake than he had in a while, less groggy and more energized, like he'd finally gotten some sleep.

"Oh look. The idiot finally wakes up." Jason glowered at him. "What the fu-"

"Language." Tim said automatically. Alfred hated profanity, and it had started to rub off on Tim.

"Whatever." Jason grumbled. "What were you thinking?"

"Um, I was doing my job?" Tim replied. "Kicking bad guy butt?"

"You were getting yourself killed." Jason growled. "Why didn't you call for help?"

"I didn't have a comm." And he actually didn't. He had to make his story believable. "I didn't want the help, nor did I need it."

"You almost died!" Jason argued. "You absolutely needed it!"

"Oh please. 'Tis but a scratch." Tim said, trying to sit up. Jason shoved him back down.

"Don't you dare quote Monty Python at me!" He snapped. "And don't try to get up either! You're lucky Alfred doesn't know about the stunt you pulled, otherwise you'd be under house arrest for the next six months!"

Tim froze, a frown beginning to etch itself in his face. "Alfred doesn't know?"

Jason sighed. "No, he doesn't. That's only because he's on vacation and I got you stabilized without help."

"Does Bruce know?" Because getting him stabilized without help meant that maybe Jason didn't tell Bruce, which would ruin everything. Tim managed to keep his voice even so as to not betray anything.

"No. You're welcome." Jason growled. "I should have called him, considering what you did was endlessly stupid, but I knew how much I'd hate having him in my business, so no, I didn't."

Great. That's just peachy. Back to the drawing board.

"Thanks." Tim sighed, doing his best to sound relieved. He could lie to Batman, Red Hood should be no issue. He was right.

"Just don't do it again." Jason said gruffly. "We aren't burying any more kids."

"I'm not a kid."

"You're like, twelve." Jason adjusted the bags. "Now go back to sleep. You look like you haven't slept in days. Take better care of yourself Replacement."

As Tim drifted off, his mind raced of other ways to convince Jason to call Bruce. It should be simple, he just had to get closer to death. This would be a little less simple, but that's okay. Tim just needed to work harder.


	3. Poisonous Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason hasn't called Bruce yet. Yet being the key word. Tim just needs to put himself in a little more danger. That's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have most of this written already. I might just finish it up and post it by tomorrow. Not sure yet. I have to find the motivation first. Until then, enjoy the angst.

3\.   
Tim couldn't spend too long planning because he only had so long until Alfred got back. But pretty soon he had another plan. The arm wasn't a fatal enough area. Maybe the stomach would work. Or poison. Maybe he could break a bone or something.

Technically the other bullet wound hadn't healed, but he would be fine. He wasn't what mattered right now. What mattered was bringing Jason home.

***

Ivy broke out of Arkham, which worked perfectly for Tim's plan. It would be almost too easy to get poisoned with her on the loose. Jason would have to contact Bruce.

Of course, Tim had to have a contingency. Poison was much less reliable than a bullet. The antidote may not work, anything could happen.

It made Tim uneasy to think about, but it would work. It had to. His life was nothing in comparison to the happiness he could still bring this family. It was why he had become Robin all those years ago, so he could fix Batman. Now was his chance.

It was so obvious. Jason was doing so much better, Tim had noticed the way he seemed to consider going back to the Manor. He'd spoken to him about it when Tim invited Jason back to the Manor for dinner just a few days ago. Jason had been checking in on Tim to make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid with a bullet wound in his shoulder. Tim was going to do something stupid, but not without a plan first, so it evened itself out.

"Bruce wouldn't want me there." He had said. Which was wrong on so many levels. Bruce wanted Jason there so badly, he wanted Jason there more than he wanted Tim. But if Jason would just talk to Bruce it would all work out. Tim was sure of it. They both loved each other so much and they kept hurting each other because they didn't understand that nothing could ruin their relationship.

Tim wasn't sleeping anymore. If he was, it was only a few hours. He had to time this perfectly, he needed plans and backup plans and backup plans for his backups. There was no time to sleep. Especially since Wayne Enterprises was trying to come out with a new product and Tim was still the CEO and he had so much that he still needed to do. Not to mention the Titans were all dealing with their typical issues and they needed Tim there for the weekend even though he couldn't be there because his Wayne Enterprises meeting had been rescheduled to Saturday afternoon because he had missed it while he was unconscious.

No. Tim couldn't sleep. Not until this was done.

***

The stars aligned. Ivy was in Crime Alley (Tim didn't know why, he didn't need to, all he needed was the poison), meaning Jason had to be close by.

Tim dropped down from the building. "Hello Ivy."

She spun around. "What are you doing here? Isn't this Hood's territory?" She didn't sound worried, or even concerned. Just annoyed. "I don't need to deal with two Bats tonight."

"Well there's only one here." Tim replied. And wow. He was tired. He couldn't even do witty banter right now. He jumped from his stance to attack, but he was off balance. He needed to sleep more, but not now. Now it actually worked in his favor.

"I don't have time for any bats right now." Ivy grumbled. It was clear she wouldn't need anything anyways. Red Robin was clearly off his game tonight. He wasn't even wearing a rebreather to protect himself from fumes. That worked to Ivy's favor.

A puff of green powder erupted in front of his face and Tim coughed. Perfect. If it wasn't anything fancy then Jason should have an antidote.

Tim threw a bola at Ivy's feet. She wasn't expecting it and she went down. Before she could get up, Tim pounced, knocking her out. It would have to do for now. Tim was already dizzy. His vision was fading.

Tim was out before Jason even got there.

***

This time, when Tim woke up he was alone. He was definitely in Jason's apartment though. Fair enough. He didn't mind being alone. For all he knew, Jason had stepped out to give Bruce a call.

Tim's head was still fuzzy from the night before. In fact, the world was still spinning and he hadn't even gotten up yet. Key word being yet.

As soon as he stood up he stumbled and knocked one of Jason's guns off the walls. It clattered to the floor with a loud twang and Tim winced as the noise made his head hurt more than it already did.

The door slammed open, and Jason stood there, looking pissed.

"Hey Jason!" Tim grinned. "Long time no see?"

"I wish!" Jason snapped. "This is the third time in three months I've had to patch you up because you were being stupid!"

"I was catching Ivy." Tim defended. "And I successfully caught Ivy."

"You went after Ivy without having any of the basic antidotes to her poison on you? Not to mention Ivy still got away because you were too doped up to restrain her properly!" Jason growled. "Of all the stupid things you've been doing, that has to be the stupidest."

"I didn't know I was going to run into Ivy, but then I saw her and followed her and one thing led to another and here I am." Tim shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah, almost dead. You're lucky Bruce isn't here to glare at you while I lecture you on safety!"

Tim paused. "You called Bruce?"

Jason glowered, seeing Tim's hesitation as worry. "Not yet, but if you keep going like this I'll have to yell at him for not taking better care of his bird."

Tim sagged in relief. To Jason, he would seem relieved that he hadn't called Bruce. But in reality Tim was glad to know that Jason will eventually call Bruce, Tim just needed to work harder.

He just needed another plan.


	4. Not a Sedative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason did not sedate Tim, much to his surprise. Probably because he was too busy already being unconscious.

4.  
Tim stopped eating. There was no time for it anymore. The only thing he put in his body anymore was coffee. But it was all worth it. He would bring Jason home.

He was finding it difficult to proceed. His scattered and sleep deprived brain was having difficulty coming up with elaborate plans to get himself seriously injured.

Jason had said Tim wasn't allowed to patrol for another two months. Tim ignored him. He'd been patrolling every night, no matter how tired or dizzy he was.

He was so close. If Tim could just keep this up Jason would call Bruce eventually. Tim didn't want to keep getting hurt (his chest still hurt from the poison, his bullet wound had gotten infected) but there was no other way. None that would work as quickly at least.

This time Tim was fighting someone on the roof. He was tired and his brain was sluggish and Ra's was still sending assassin after assassin after him.

A kick to his chest sent him off the roof, vaguely reminding Tim of the time he had fought Ra's while Bruce was trapped in the time stream.

Nobody caught him this time.

***

Every single part of Tim's body ached. A needle in his arm informed him that there was an IV in him, but it clearly wasn't for painkillers. If it wasn't for painkillers killers, what was it for? Maybe a sedative? The last thing he remembered was fighting a League ninja. Did Ra's finally just kidnap him?

Tim forced his eyes open, despite his groggy desire to just succumb to sleep. Definitely a sedative. The room he was in looked familiar. Why couldn't Tim figure out where he was?

He pulled the IV out of his arm, the last thing he needed was a sedative mugging his thoughts.

Trying to sit up, the world spun and he forced himself to stop and wait for the sedative to wear off. He was in trouble now if he couldn't even move he was so drugged up.

The door to the room he was in opened, and Jason stormed in.

Wait. What?

"You're lucky I've been keeping an eye on you!" He snarled. "If I hadn't gotten there when I did you'd be dead!" His eyes went to the blood on Tim's forearm in place of the needle. Jason had sedated him? But why? Old mistrust reared it's head, but even then it didn't make sense. Why would Jason bother to sedate him when he could just kill him while he was originally unconscious? "And you pulled out your IV. Of course. It's not like you need the fluids since you haven't eaten in who knows how long!"

Jason continued ranting but Tim frowned. The IV was for fluids? Then why did it feel like he'd been pumped full of a sedative?

"Maybe because you haven't been sleeping!" Jason growled. At Tim's confused look he ran a hand through his hair. "You're so tired you're basically speaking with no filter! If Bruce hadn't gone off world to handle something this weekend he'd be here and you would be grounded from patrol for the rest of your life!"

Bruce was off world? Why didn't Tim know that? And how injured exactly was he? His brain hadn't fully rebooted yet but there were parts of his body that hurt mkre than others. His chest, for example. And his shoulder. Even his ankle. Granted, he's glad he's alive. After all, falling off a roof is risky business. Nobody tell Dick, it would probably give him a panic attack and the Tim would have to talk to him. Which, he'd rather not. It was easier to be angry when you didn't have to see Dick's stupid puppy dog eyes. Granted, Tim was practically immune to them by now. He tried to sit up but Jason's glare forced him to stop.

"Don't you dare try to stand up." His voice was deadly calm, betraying how mad he really was. "You have at least three broken ribs that you're lucky didn't puncture a lung, your shoulder is dislocated and your ankle is sprained. Luckily you landed in a dumpster on top of some nice soft trash instead of the pavement, or, surprise, you'd be dead."

Tim was trying to focus. He really was. He needed all the information he could get. But his brain kept wandering. How long had he been out? If Bruce was off world, Gotham needed people to patrol that much more. And here he was, sitting in bed. And, if it was the weekend, that meant he missed his WE meeting again and never went to see the Titans. So now he has two sets of people angry at him. Well, the Titans are probably more concerned than angry. He'll have to send them a vague and irritating text so that they'll get angry and avoid him rather than storm Gotham and ruin Tim's plan. But Tim will be surprised if he isn't fired by the end of this ordeal, which to be honest would be a blessing. Running WE sucks. A lot.

Everything in his life was falling apart. But it was okay. Because Jason had said that if Bruce had been there, Jason would have called him. Which means Tim just needed one more plan to get them talking. It would be so easy.

"How long was I out?" Tim asked, his voice raspy and slurred. He needed coffee to deal with this. 

"A little more than a day. It's Sunday." Shoot. He had missed the meeting. And he was a horrible leader for the Titans, not even able to make it to the base. On the bright side, he had taken a break (read: dropped out) from his schooling, so he wasn't getting behind on homework.

"And don't you dare even think of patrolling for another three months Replacement." Jason told him. "If I catch even a hint of Red Robin patrolling the city I will not hesitate to find you and drag your sleep deprived butt to the Manor."

Well that made things beyond easy. Tim might not even have to get injured. Jason continued to ramble, but Tim stopped listening. Everything was going to work out. Jason was going to talk to Bruce and they could bond over how much of a disappointment he was for them. Jason's ranting continued, and Tim's eyes dropped and he fell into a fitful sleep.


	5. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the bright side, Jason says he's going to call Bruce. On the downside Tim's ribs are aching and he can feel a migraine coming on.

5.  
It had only been three days since he'd woken up at Jason's safe house. Tim knew he'd have to be careful or he could be seriously injured. More than he already was at least. And after all of this he could finally rest.

In the time he'd been at Jason's place he had been forced to sleep a decent amount and eat three meals a day. Tim had never felt better. He could let himself slip a little more now without feeling to bad because he knew that it would only be a little bit longer before Jason and Bruce started talking.

Sneaking out of Jason's apartment did make Tim feel kind of bad, but he was so close that there was no way he was giving up now. So what if he was still dizzy from blood loss? So what if he ached all over? So what if all his limbs were so stiff it took him a minute and a half to shimmy Jason's window open?

It would all work out. It had to, Tim had planned extensively.

***

In Tim's defense, he had thought Bruce was back. He didn't realize that the Justice League had waylaid him on his way home and sent him to the other side of the world. Instead, Tim sat there awkwardly with Jason glaring at him after he, once again, failed to get ahold of Bruce to yell at him about Tim.

"Why," Jason began, "can't you understand that when you're injured, you need to rest! Has your original bullet wound even healed?"

"Yes!" Tim lied. In actuality he tore the stitches again earlier that day and never bothered to redo them.

"Liar!" Jason snapped. "It's literally bleeding right now! Did you seriously just lie to my face?"

"No?" Tim tried, causing Jason to lean back and sigh.

"You and I need to have a talk with Bruce." Jason told him. "Non-negotiable. As soon as he's back from, well, wherever the heck he is I'm marching you up to him. In fact, I'm going to call Dick right now!"

"Bold of you to assume Dick can make me do anything." Tim grinned. "He and I aren't exactly on good terms right now."

"Really?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "You and Goldie? What'd you do to piss him off?"

"More like what he did." Tim frowned. "Point is, anything Dick tells me to do, I'll probably do the opposite."

"Got it." Jason said. "Goldie's not an option. What about Steph?"

"She and I are both kind of playing a game of chicken to see who breaks and apologizes first."

"Seriously? Are you on good terms with anyone right now?"

"Alfred?"

"He doesn't count. Everyone's on good terms with Alfred."

Tim just shrugged. "I'd like to think I'm on pretty good terms with you."

Jason's face went slack for a moment, his glare giving way to a look of surprise. "Me? But I tried to kill you? Multiple times?"

"Yeah, but by this point you've patched me up like, five times? Pretty sure that means we're on good terms."

"Out of everyone in the family you're on good terms with the outcast?"

Tim grinned. "Hey maybe we can be outcasts together!"

"Uh uh." Jason shook his head. "Nope, there is only one outcast in this family and it's me. Get your own role."

Tim sat up, ignoring Jason's new glare signalling that it was a bad idea. He ignored the pain. Jason had jumped in to help out during a nasty fight where Tim had taken a few hits to the ribs from a baseball bat. At least four of them had broken.

Or...two more. The other two just rebroke.

"Thanks for patching me up, but I should get going." Tim scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Don't even think about-" Tim stood up and Jason's angry ranting gave way as Tim's vision went black.

***

"By this point I think your face may be stuck like that." Tim commented towards Jason's glare.

"Only when I'm around idiots with no self-preservation skills." Jason replied. "What made you think that standing up was a good idea?"

"I didn't think it was that bad!" Tim protested.

"You have several broken ribs!" Jason snapped. "Not to mention the bullet wound, the poison, the sprained wrist and ankle!"

"You forgot the stab wound." Tim told him absently.

"What?" Jason growled. "When did you get stabbed?"

"Like, four days ago?" Tim frowned. "I think it was four. Maybe only three."

Looking at Jason, Tim thought it was pretty clear that he was angry. But for some reason, Tim didn't feel scared. He was right, he trusted Jason now. He was no longer worried about Jason trying to kill him, despite the many reasons he had to be worried. Such as Jason's anger issues. And the previous attempts. And the multiple guns within easy reach in this apartment. Despite all this, Tim felt safe. Which only served to further Tim's belief that Jason belonged with the family. If Tim could forgive him after everything that happened, then so could everyone else. The real question is whether Jason could forgive them for everything that's happened.

"Jason?" Tim broke the silence. Maybe he could pass this off as some kind of drug or sleep induced haze. "Why don't you come to the Manor?"

Jason frowned, he looked angry for a second, as if he were going to snap at Tim, then thought better of it. "Bruce doesn't want me around."

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard and I've been lying to everyone about how okay I am for months now." Tim glared at Jason, a nice change of pace for him. "Bruce wants you around so bad it's all he can think about. The only reason he hasn't come and forced you to the Manor is because he thinks you hate him."

"What?" And at that Jason actually looked confused. Tim would have laughed if he didn't have so many broken ribs. "I don't hate Bruce."

"Try telling him that. Talking it out won't solve all your problems, but it will solve some of them and allow you the chance to work the rest of them out."

"I've killed people. I don't think we can work that out." Jason leaned back in his chair.

"I don't know." Tim grinned. "Only one way to find out?"

And Jason smiled. It was a real, genuine smile. "I guess that's true."


	6. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time Tim didn't get injured on purpose. He swears. Besides, Jason and Bruce were fine, there was no reason for him to get hurt.
> 
> His body disagrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's over. I'm not sure if I'm ready or not to be conpletely honest. I might have to add a one shot later about them talking it all out. Who knows. I certainly don't.

+1

Both Jason and Bruce were glaring at him now. Bruce was finally home, and the minute he had arrived Jason had dragged Tim down to the manor so that they could yell at him together. He'd be scared but Tim learned a long time ago that Batman only glared at his Robins when he was worried they were going to get hurt. (Then again Tim wasn't really his Robin anymore now was he?) And by this point, Tim was immune to Jason's glares.

"What were you thinking!" Bruce started, before beginning a rant about taking care of himself and how irresponsible he was while Jason stood smugly to the side.

Tim didn't care. He was just happy that his plan worked. Jason and Bruce were finally talking, Jason had even said he would try!

Besides, now Tim could start kind of taking care of himself again. He could go home, maybe even eat something before he got some semblance of sleep. He just had to wait out this lecture.

If they had been in the Batcave, Tim would have said the chills had come from the cold temperature. The dizziness he could have said was due to blood loss or lack of sleep.

But as Bruce continued his lecture and Tim spotted the tell-tale spots on his arm, he realized the consequences he hadn't thought of when he enacted his plan.

When was the last time he had taken his antibiotics?

It was Jason that noticed his disassociation first.

"Come on Replacement are you even listening?" He snapped. Tim's stomach clenched, he opened his mouth to reply but quickly shut it as he felt vomit forcing its way up his throat. Leaning to the side to avoid Jason and Bruce, Tim emptied the few contents of his stomach onto the floor.

Bruce's voice turned from lecturing to concerned. He heard his name repeated over and over but couldn't bring himself to respond. He knew what this was and he should tell them. If he didn't they would never figure it out, only Alfred knew that Tim's spleen was missing and he was still on vacation. But it seemed every time Tim opened his mouth the world turned upside down again. He was so stupid. He had known he may have had an infection but he had ignored it. Now he was paying the price. He heard vague clips of Jason and Bruce's conversation.

"-ot a fever Bru-"

"-beat elevated-"

"-oing on-"

Tim forced his brain to cooperate for like, five seconds. Finally, he managed to get a word out.

"Sepsis." He choked out, forcing his body to hold out his arms with the incriminating spots. His brain rebooted just enough to hear Jason curse. His knees buckled.

The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was a pair of familiar arms stopping him from hitting the ground.

***

Tim knew, vaguely at least, what was going on. He had firgotten to take his antibiotics and now here he was, a month or so later, paying for it dearly. He may even die.

But it was worth it.

His plan had worked.

It had worked.

***

Tim woke in small bursts. Sometimes Jason was by his side, sometimes it was Bruce. Sometimes it was both of them. Those times made Tim smile, because it meant his plan really had worked.

Finally, when Jason had deemed him recovered enough, it was time for a lecture.

Jason and Bruce stood next to Tim's bed, Jason glaring and Bruce trying his best not to look concerned.

"So," Jason's voice was deathly calm. "You're missing a vital organ and decided to keep it a secret."

"Is the spleen really a vital organ?" Tim asked. "I mean, I haven't had one for months and I've had no repercussions." Bruce glowered at him. "Okay, one repercussion."

"Tim why didn't you tell anyone?" Bruce asked.

"I told Alfred." He smiled sheepishly. "Turns out the one time it's important is when he's not here. Murphy's law and all that."

"This isn't a joke Tim. You could have died." And wow, Bruce sounded worried. (He shouldn't be worried Jason was home he should be happy). 

"But I didn't." Tim replied. "Besides, everything worked out nicely in the end didn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason snarled. "In fact, what's this plan you were rambling about while you were half conscious?"

"It doesn't matter." Tim deflected. "It was successful and nobody died." The only person that could have died would have been Tim, but he didn't say that. 

"Tim," Bruce began. "Talk to us. We want to know how to help you. You've been so reckless lately."

And Tim knows he's on pain meds because his traitorous mouth spits out parts of his secrets. "You don't have to worry about that anymore. It was all part of the plan!"

Bruce stiffened. Jason's eye twitched. "What does that even mean?"

Well. In for a penny and all that.

"Look, I got hurt, Jason reached out to you, and now you guys are going to fix your problems." Tim frowned. "Or at least you're supposed to be. I don't know why you're wasting time interrogating me when you can finally work out all the issues you guys have."

The room was silent for a few moments while they thought over his suggestion. At least, that's what Tim assumed that they were doing.

"Your master plan," Jason began, "was to purposefully injure yourself so that I would inevitably reach out to Bruce?"

"Exactly." Tim smirked. "Pretty genius huh? At least it worked, right?"

"You are the stupidest person I have ever met!" Jason groaned. "What if you had died?"

"You guys would have made up at my funeral and it would have been worth it." Tim needed to stop talking, because judging by the looks on their faces that was the wrong thing to say.

"Tim," Bruce emphasized his name as if he didn't already know what it was. "Nothing is worth you dying. Ever."

Tim was becoming irritated. Why were they still talking about this? "It doesn't matter. I'm alive and the plan worked."

"It does matter." Jason held Tim's gaze. "At no point is it okay for you to put your life in danger."

"What if I'm saving your life?" Tim asked.

"Still no." Bruce growled, but he sounded scared almost. "You are never allowed to die for me, understand? Never. If the choice is between me and yourself don't pick me or you're grounded."

"You can't ground me." Tim was not pouting. Not at all. "I'm an emancipated minor. You can't make me do anything."

Bruce recoiled. "What? When?"

Tim's frown deepened. "I thought you knew about it? It's the only reason I'm allowed to run Wayne Enterprises?"

Bruce sat back, stunned. "I never really thought about it. When did this happen?"

"Around the time I lost my spleen give or take a month or so." Tim wanted to shrug but his whole body kind of hurt. But that's okay, the plan worked and if his body had to pay the price then that's okay. It was fine.

Bruce noticed though. His eyes narrowed. "Just how injured are you?"

Jason piped up after his long silence. "I know he has at least a few broken ribs, a bullet wound, a stab wound, some extra broken bones and a major life threatening infection. Did I miss anything?" He sounded way too chipper, like he was about to go kill someone, which still made Tim feel uneasy if he was being completely honest.

"No. I think that's it." Tim leaned back, the injuries taking their toll on his body. Both of his interrogators noticed. 

"Get some rest," Bruce said softly. "We'll talk about this more later."

"And we will be talking about it." Jason promised.

"You're just upset because I manipulated you." Tim grinned.

"No. I'm upset because my baby brother threw himself into harms way for no reason." Jason glared at him. "Now shut up and go to sleep before I have go sedate you again."

Jason and Bruce left the room. Together. Despite everything they said, nothing would ever tarnish that.

Because his plan had worked.

And with that, Tim Drake leaned back and fell asleep.


End file.
